


Jewel of Death

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Avon Whump, Avon's allergies, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 03, Vila is brave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Kathy Hintze</p>
<p>Servalan infects Avon with a virus meant to kill the crew of the Liberator, but Vila has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jewel of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> **Original Author's Notes:**
> 
> Previously published in 'Errantry 1' (multimedia, 1984). 
> 
> Also previously archived at Hammer to Fall.

"You're sure he's been infected, Javarre?" the woman asked as she looked at the dusty, dark-clad figure lying unconscious on the couch.

"Positive, Madame President. The standard incubation time for the virus is one hour and he's been here nearly two. I personally injected him with the virus, as you instructed, as soon as he was found."

"Excellent." Servalan picked up a slender vial which lay on the table next to the couch and looked at its contents closely. "Beautiful, like a liquid ruby," she murmured, handing it to the physician. "And yet so deadly."

Javarre took the vial and secured it carefully in a small wooden case. "Madame President," he inquired curiously, "with the Federation's vast selection of viral strains, why did you choose this particular one?"

Servalan looked at the prisoner and smiled coldly. "I want to give the crew of the _Liberator_ the chance to watch each other die. And this particular strain has proven most effective in the past."

"But how did you know he was coming?" the doctor asked in a puzzled voice.

"Because I invited him--not directly, of course. I merely sent word that Blake was here. I knew he would check it out. As for the collapse of the ceiling, that was providential."

"Then this is all a trap?"

"Of course," Servalan sighed. "Now, it is important that he be returned to the exact location where you found him. And there must be nothing to indicate he's been moved or anyone else has been there. Avon is not a fool. If he suspects anything, my plan will fail."

"But, Madame President!"

"Javarre!" she returned impatiently. "The _Liberator_ will surely have missed him by now, and I don't want anyone teleporting down looking for him. Once Avon is on board, we need only wait until they are dead or too weak to offer resistance. Then we can take the ship at our leisure."

"I see," he commented and walked to the doorway where two guards stood. "You two, take him back to the bunker," he ordered. "Make sure you place him exactly as you found him. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"And we must not forget this," Servalan added, taking a teleport bracelet from a nearby table and snapping it on the unconscious man's wrist.

The guards picked up the prisoner and carried him from the room into a nearby building. Servalan and her companion followed at a discreet distance. Rubble filled several corridors of the decaying structure and the ceiling creaked and groaned, showering the visitors with a fine layer of dust. Cautiously picking their way through the debris, the men arrived at the site of the recent collapse, positioned their burden on the floor and left. Javarre and Servalan took up watch behind a large slab of concrete and waited for their captive to awaken.

#

Dust filtered down from the ceiling as Avon moaned and opened his eyes. He was very surprised to find himself alive. With care, he sat up and looked at the carnage around him. The collapse must have been triggered by the teleport beam, he mused, recalling his narrow escape. The only safety he had seen lay between two large stone blocks, but as he dove for them, a piece of debris had struck him on the head. Everything after that was a blank. How long have I been out? he wondered, then slowly got to his feet and tried his bracelet. _"Liberator,_ this is Avon." No response, then static.

Cally's relieved voice answered him. "Avon, where have you been? We've been trying to raise you for at least an hour."

"I had a minor argument with a piece of rock," he replied dryly, fingering a gash alongside his left temple. "It won. Bring me up."

#

From her hiding place, Servalan watched Avon disappear and smiled. "How long until the entire crew is infected?"

"Depending upon exposure, I would estimate 12 hours. Death occurs within 36 hours after initial incubation unless the subject receives the vaccine."

"Then in three days, the _Liberator_ will be a ghost ship," she mused. "A pity Avon won't be alive when I come aboard."

"But how will you know where to find them, Madame President?" the doctor queried. "They could be anywhere."

"A ship the size of the _Liberator_ will be easy to locate, Javarre." Her patience with the man was beginning to wear thin. "Now, I must be getting back." Looking at the handsome doctor, she added with a captivating smile, "You _are_ coming back with me to Earth?"

"It would be my pleasure," the doctor responded with a smile.

#

Vila was with Cally when Avon materialized on board. "You certainly took your time," Vila complained. "I thought something happened to you."

Avon's head began to ache and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face as he replied. "Something did." He walked slowly to the teleport couch and sat down. "And when did you begin to think?"

"Avon, you're hurt," Cally murmured with concern. But as her fingers brushed the wound, Avon jerked away.

"I'm all right, Cally. A little dizzy, that's all."

"Did you find anything?" she asked quietly.

Avon looked up at her and frowned. "You mean any sign of Blake? No. If Blake did send that message, which I doubt, he had to move on in a hurry. The base down there has not been in use for at least 50 years. The buildings are falling apart."

"Avon, are you all right?" a voice called from the doorway. Dayna stood staring at him with worried eyes.

"Why all this sudden concern?" he returned, eyeing his companions coldly. "Or did Tarrant think to take command without the benefit of seeing my corpse?"

"Avon!" Dayna exclaimed. "How could you think..."

"You are tired and hurt, Avon," Cally interrupted in a soft voice. "I think you should get some rest."

Avon glared at Cally for a moment, then realized she was right. "I'm going to get cleaned up. Vila, tell Tarrant to break orbit. I want to get clear of Pendra in case it is a trap."

#

As Avon walked from the teleport station, a scarlet mist rose before his eyes and dizziness swept through his mind. He forced himself up the steps and down the corridor toward his cabin. Once out of the others' sight, though, he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as he tried to regain control. Avon glanced back toward the teleport, but no one had followed him. With the wall as support and feeling a little better, he continued on, but the dizziness grew steadily worse. Then in the corridor near his cabin, his strength gave out and he crumpled to the floor.

#

Vila was on his way to the flight deck when he found Avon sprawled face down in the middle of the hall. As he turned Avon over, Vila winced. Blood was flowing down the side of Avon's face. He reached for the wall communicator and hoped that Cally was still at the teleport.

"Yes, Vila, what is it?" came the Auron's voice.

"I--I've found Avon lying in the corridor near his cabin. Cally, there's something wrong with him," he said in a frightened voice. "He's unconscious."

"Stay with him, Vila, and don't let him move about. He may have a concussion."

"Not much chance of that. He's out cold," Vila mumbled. "Do you think I should call Tarrant?"

Cally hesitated. "No. I'll be right there."

"All right," Vila replied, switched off the communicator and returned to Avon's side. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? Just to worry Cally and me." As Vila examined him closer, he noticed Avon's face seemed unusually flushed and when Vila felt his forehead, he seemed abnormally warm.

"Vila, has he come around?" Cally's voice startled Vila.

"No," Vila murmured, looking up. "Cally, he feels awfully warm."

The Auron's expression grew concerned as she checked Avon. "A concussion may cause a rise in temperature, Vila." She looked at Vila's frightened face and smiled. "I am sure it's nothing serious. Now, help me get him to the med unit."

#

Vila rubbed a sore shoulder, wishing Cally had let him call Tarrant. Avon was no featherweight and getting him to the med unit had not been easy for either of them. Vila watched as Cally gently wiped the blood from Avon's face and began cleaning the wound. Vila flinched as he saw the gash. "That's a pretty nasty cut, Cally. Do you think that's what made him pass out?"

The Auron nodded. "It's possible, Vila. The wound is very close to the temple."

"You'd think Avon would know better than to wander around in old buildings," Vila said with a mischievous smile.

"Yes, you would," Cally agreed, returning his smile. "Weren't you supposed to tell Tarrant something?"

"Uh, yes," Vila remembered. "In all the excitement, I guess I forgot."

#

But after two hours, Avon still had not regained consciousness and Cally began to worry. And since Avon was unable to prevent it, she decided to run a few tests. When the results came back, they were anything but encouraging.

"Subject appears to be suffering from a fever of unknown origin," the med computer advised. "However, tests results are inconclusive at this time."

"Inconclusive?"

"A scan of ship's data banks have no recorded reference on which to base diagnosis," the computer replied.

Cally checked her chronometer. Four hours had lapsed since Avon had been found in the corridor. Four wasted hours, the Auron thought, punching the wall comm.

"Yes?" answered a familiar voice.

"Vila?" Cally could not keep the surprise out of her voice. His shift wasn't due to begin for at least another six hours. "What are you doing on watch?"

"Tarrant wasn't feeling up to par. Some of Dayna's cooking no doubt," Vila laughed, then his voice changed. "How's Avon?"

"He's still unconscious, Vila," Cally murmured. "I don't understand. He has a slight concussion but nothing serious. He should have regained consciousness by now."

"Then what..." Vila quavered.

"I don't know," Cally replied. "The med computer said he has some kind of fever but nothing definite."

"Have you tried Orac?" Vila asked.

"That's why I'm calling. Bring him down to the med unit, will you?"

"Have him there in a minute," Vila answered.

The small computer lay on the flight table, but as Vila reached for it, Orac suddenly came to life. "I do not wish to be disturbed."

What was he doing activated? Vila wondered. Then he remembered who had used the computer last. What was Tarrant thinking of, leaving the key in? Vila eyed the flickering lights uncertainly, remembering the last time Orac had said that. He had received quite a jolt. But Cally needed Orac right away. He gathered his courage and said, "Come on, Orac. Cally needs you to..."

"I am aware of her request."

"You are?" Vila asked in surprise.

"Of course. I have been monitoring the tests and find them fascinating, though somewhat incomplete." The computer sniffed. "Due no doubt to the inferior status of the ship's medical computer. However, anticipating you would require my services, I have already undertaken a scan of my own. I shall inform you in due time of my findings."

"Uh, all right," Vila muttered, walking back to his console. "I don't like that. Orac anticipating what we want and all."

"Just let me know what he finds out," Cally called, making Vila jump. He'd forgotten to turn the communicator off.

#

Avon was running a high temperature when he finally came to. Through blurry eyes, Cally's concerned face floated into view as she adjusted one of the sensor links.

"What..." he began, but his throat was so dry and swollen, it was very difficult to speak. Cally left his area of vision for a moment, then returned with a glass of cool water.

"You've contracted a fever of some type, Avon," she explained as he drained the glass. "Orac is trying to identify it now."

"A fever?" he managed to get out. "How?"

Cally shrugged. "You've been out for nearly 12 hours."

"Twelve hours?" Unwillingly, he recalled the collapse, then the faint voices which had preceded his awakening. One had been all too familiar as Servalan's voice echoed in his mind. 'You're sure he's been infected?' Everything grew crystal clear and Avon grabbed Cally's hand.

"Cally," he muttered painfully. "Servalan...virus...like Auron. You...must...keep...others away." The effort to get his message out proved too much for Avon, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

#

Cally's face drained of color as her mind flooded with memories of her dead people, of Zelda. Servalan had murdered them trying to get the _Liberator._ And now she was trying again. Slowly, Cally walked to the wall communicator and activated it. "Tarrant?"

"Yes, Cally," came the pilot's voice. "How's Avon?"

"Pendra _was_ a trap, Tarrant. Servalan was waiting for us. Somehow, she injected Avon with a virus." Cally's voice broke. "Like my people, like Auron."

"A virus?" Vila exclaimed. "Is it contagious?"

"More important," Dayna asked in a worried tone, "is there a cure?"

"I don't know," Cally responded. "Have Orac check Federation records. Maybe the answer lies there. But until one's found, no one is to enter the medical unit. Understand?"

"We understand," Tarrant answered.

#

For the next two hours, Avon's temperature continued to rise, his condition deteriorating as the virus drained his strength. Cally tried everything she knew to reduce the fever but nothing seemed to help.

Then Vila burst in. "Cally, Orac's isolated the virus."

Cally looked up in dismay.

"Vila! Why didn't you call? Now you're exposed!"

"I already am, remember?" he reminded. "Besides, Orac says the bug is a strain of the Melden series and the service grades have been immune to Melden for years. It's the Alphas," he paused, gazing at Avon with fearful eyes. "They've no immunities." Then he looked at her with concern. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled wanly. "Tired, Vila, just tired. Alpha grade? What about Tarrant and Dayna?"

"Dayna's all right. Orac ran a check on her and said something about that planet she lived on altering her bios or something," Vila explained. "But Tarrant has the symptoms, and he wasn't anywhere near Avon. The stuff must spread through the air."

"What about an antidote?" Cally asked hopefully. "Has Orac come up with one?"

"Yes." Vila's face paled as he answered. "But it's on Earth. At the Melden Institute. If the vaccine is given within 32 hours of initial incubation, there's a chance." Looking down at Avon, he added, "Tarrant's already laid in a course. We should arrive in ten hours."

"Ten hours?" Her gaze drifted to Avon.

"You need rest, Cally. Go on. I can manage."

Cally appreciated Vila's concern, but she was afraid to leave Avon's side. Afraid of what might happen. "No, I think it would be better..."

"Cally, please. Until we have the vaccine, there's nothing anyone can do." He gently took her arm and urged her toward the door. "Besides, you know Avon wouldn't want you worrying about him."

There was a gentle insistence in his voice and Cally reluctantly agreed. "All right, Vila. But if there's any change at all...."

"I'll call you," he promised.

#

Avon lapsed into delirium shortly after Cally left, giving Vila no choice but to strap him down. Vila tried to reassure him as he wiped the sweat from his face but Avon did not hear him.

In his wandering mind, Avon was back on Star One with Blake standing next to him. Then Travis appeared, gun blazing. "Blake, get down," Avon yelled, pushing the larger man to one side. Blake fell heavily, but Avon had no time to check him.

Travis laughed. "I promised Blake I would kill him, and now I have. It's doesn't matter if you kill me, Avon. Blake's dead. Do you hear me, Avon? Blake is dead."

Avon said nothing but worked his way silently to the other side of the room. Travis was maneuvering for another shot when Avon saw him and fired. The former space commander screamed and fell forward into the complex's energy core. Avon smiled briefly, then returned to Blake. "How bad?" he asked, noting the other's pallor.

"I've had better days," Blake whispered, but there was blood on his lips and his breathing seemed labored. "Travis?"

"Dead."

"You're sure?" Blake asked in an anxious voice.

"Very sure." Avon replied, checking Blake's wound. It looked bad. "I have to get you back to the ship." Avon eased him up against the wall, then activated his bracelet. _"Liberator,_ this is Avon. Teleport now." Silence. _"Liberator,_ we need teleport now. If that fool's gone to sleep, I'll..." Avon stopped, staring at his companion. "Blake?" Blake's eyes were wide and empty. "Blake!" Avon screamed and grabbed his companion's hand, trying to will life into a dead man.

#

Vila was trying to tighten a loose wrist strap when Avon suddenly grabbed his hand. Vila gasped with pain and tried to pull his hand away but the other man only tightened his hold. "Avon, let go." Vila cried. "Please. You're hurting me."

"Blake!" Avon screamed and his eyes flew open. Vila had never seen such grief and despair before. Suddenly, his pain did not matter. He had to help Avon, to comfort him any way he could.

"Avon, it's me, Vila. It's all right. You're safe," Vila murmured, touching Avon's face gently. "It's all right. Relax. You're safe."

For a moment, the fever-ridden man stared up at Vila as if he recognized him, then Avon's eyes slid shut and he relaxed with a sigh. Vila slowly retrieved his hand and rubbed his numbed fingers, praying they would reach Earth in time.

#

On the flight deck, Tarrant was not feeling very well. "Take over, will you, Dayna? I think I'll go rest in my cabin for a while."

Dayna answered without looking up. "All right."

But as Tarrant stepped down from his station, the flight deck began spinning wildly. Dayna reached him just in time to stop Tarrant from falling down the steps. Gently, she eased him into a chair and he heard her go to the intercom.

"Cally, Tarrant's in trouble."

"Vila here, Dayna. Can you get him to the med unit?"

"I can try," came her response.

Vila met them a short distance from the med unit, and he was startled by Tarrant's appearance. Tarrant was very pale and seemed to have trouble staying on his feet.

"Come on, Tarrant, it's only a little further," Dayna urged, trying to hold him upright.

He tried to keep from staggering but couldn't. "I...I'm trying, Dayna. But...dizzy, so very dizzy."

Vila moved up beside Tarrant and put an arm around him, shifting some of the pilot's weight off the girl. "And I thought Avon was heavy," he groaned. "Tarrant, I'm personally seeing that you lose 30 pounds."

Dayna caught her breath and nodded. "For once, Vila, I agree with you."

"I've got the other couch all ready," he continued as they struggled with the pilot. "I was beginning--ow, walk on your own feet, Tarrant--to think you weren't coming."

"So did I," Dayna gasped back.

Between the two of them, they half-carried, half-dragged Tarrant the rest of the way to the med unit and onto the waiting couch. Then while Vila connected the monitoring equipment, Dayna moved over to check Avon. "He's going to die, isn't he?" she murmured softly. "They're both going to die."

"No, they're not," Vila replied, a stubbornness in his voice which made her look up.

Dayna looked around. "Where's Cally?"

"Right here," came a tired voice behind them. Cally stood in the doorway, her face drawn and haggard.

"Cally, you should be resting," Vila scolded.

"I tried to." Then she saw the restraints. "Vila, you promised you would call me if there was any change."

"There was no reason to," Vila answered in a conciliatory tone. "Besides, you needed the sleep."

Cally stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Walking over to Tarrant, she asked. "How are you feeling?"

"A little shaky, Cally, that's all," he replied. "Any change in Avon's condition?"

Cally checked the monitor and sighed. "He's weak, Tarrant, very weak." Her eyes darkened as she looked at the unconscious man. Avon was slipping into another nightmare.

#

He was tired of waiting. How long had he been there? It was impossible to tell. Shrinker had to come soon or he'd have to leave. Then the door to his cell opened and a man walked in and looked at him. "They tell me you won't answer any questions."

Avon eyed him uncertainly and sat up. "Maybe they haven't asked the right one."

"A man with a sense of humor. Good," the interrogator laughed. "I can see we will get along well. Oh, forgive me. My colleagues call me Shrinker."

Avon smiled, then rubbed his shoulder to deactivate the homing device. His fingers encountered a small scar and puzzlement crept into his face.

Shrinker grinned. "Ah, yes. We found that straight away. Intelligence wanted to leave it In place to trap your companions but I convinced them otherwise."

He removed a laser probe from his pocket. "You see, I know you'll tell me everything I want to know."

"I don't know what you mean," Avon muttered, as he tried to stand up.

"Of course, you do." The larger man grabbed Avon by the shoulder and pushed him back down. "Let's start with your name.

Avon shook off Shrinker's grip and glared defiantly at him. "Your name? What is your name?" the interrogator demanded and forced his captive flat against the cell bunk.

"No, I can't," Avon panted, as he fought to keep the probe away.

"Of course, you can," Shrinker replied. He straddled Avon's body, pinning his victim's arms down with his knees. "And you will."

"No, I will tell you nothing," Avon cried, watching the probe edge closer.

"They all say that," Shrinker reflected with a sigh. "But in the end, they always do." With a deft flick of his wrist, he activated the probe and drove it into his captive's right eye.

#

In the med unit, Cally, Vila, and Dayna fought to hold Avon still. Cally tried to touch his mind but could not penetrate the terror which gripped him. If it had not been for the restraints, they would not have been able to hold him at all as Avon fought to free himself. Then he screamed and went limp.

"Avon, it's all right. Rest now. You're safe," Cally assured him, wiping the sweat from his face. "It was a dream, Avon. Only a dream."

From his couch, Tarrant watched in silence and fear. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Oh, he'd been scared before, but never like this. The former space captain had flirted with death many times in his career but had always managed to elude it. Until now. Death suddenly seemed very real and it terrified him. _How long,_ he wondered. _How long until we reach Earth?_

Zen's voice cut through his thoughts. +Information. Destination has been achieved. Further instructions will now be required.+

And Tarrant suddenly knew he had to do. Struggling into a sitting position, he announced, "Cally, I have to go back to the flight deck."

"Tarrant, you're not strong enough," Dayna protested.

He ignored her. "Someone will have to watch for Federation ships, Cally, and give Zen instructions. Cally, let me help, please," he pleaded.

Cally studied him a long time before replying. "All right, Tarrant. If you feel up to it."

"Thank you," he sighed and switched his attention to Vila. "Do you have the location of this Melden Institute?"

"Orac has the location pinpointed and can teleport us there," Vila answered without hesitation.

"Good man. Dayna will stay with Avon while you and Cally teleport down. Orac can operate the teleport." Tarrant gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. The dizziness was still there and he realized he'd need help back to the flight deck. Before he could say a word, Vila came to his aid.

"Need any help?" Vila asked.

"Yes," Tarrant replied in surprise. "Thank you, Vila."

"No trouble. I have to fetch Orac anyway," Vila answered, walking to Tarrant's side. "Meet you at the teleport, Cally."

#

After helping Tarrant back to the flight deck, Vila picked up the computer and collected his kit. Cally was waiting for him when he got to the teleport. Quietly, she handed him a bracelet and they stepped onto the grid. "You have the coordinates, Orac?" Vila called.

Lights flickered in response from the computer on the teleport console. "Of course," Orac sniffed.

"Then put us down."

"Teleporting now," came the computer's voice.

The pair materialized in the shadow of a large statue. "According to Orac, the vaccine vault should be on the fourth level," Vila whispered as they made their way to the service lift.

"Level desired?" the lift computer requested as Vila avid Cally entered.

"Fourth," Vila responded and the door slid closed.

The lift didn't appear to move at all, so smooth was their descent. Then the door opened and the computer announced their arrival on the fourth level. Voices floated down the hall as they exited, and the pair sought cover in the shadows.

"Imagine, Javarre, in less than 24 hours, the Federation shall be rid of Blake's band and in control of the _Liberator,"_ Servalan's voice rang triumphantly. "And your work has made it all possible."

"Madame President, you honor me too much," he murmured in reply. "The Melden Institute developed the strain many years ago. It's only recently that I reopened its testing."

"And development," Servalan added with a smile. "Its uses in the future may prove limitless. You're sure the vaccine is secure? If this strain is able to mutate as the Auron virus did, I'd prefer a supply of the vaccine be available at all times."

Javarre smiled confidently. "The laboratory has a fail safe system built into it, Madame President. Without the proper voice authorization, it is impossible to gain entry. And I've had the latest detection devices installed to ensure its complete security."

"I've heard that before." Vila commented as he watched the pair disappear down the corridor. "Come on."

Vila led the way quietly down the hall, following the instructions Orac had given him to the letter. The computer had warned of the sensitive pressure plates located on either side of the main walkway and Vila, in turn, had alerted Cally to the danger. Two minor security doors blocked admittance to the vault corridor but Vila was able to deal with them easily. Then they caught sight of the massive door which marked the entrance to the vault.

"Don't say or touch anything," Vila cautioned some distance from the door. "Orac said there were audio monitors set in the adjacent walls which will trigger a depressant gas." Cally nodded in understanding. "How much time do we have?" he asked.

"Only four hours," she replied. Looking at the immense structure, she suddenly grew afraid. "Vila, are you sure you can get it open?"

Smiling with a reassurance he did not feel, he whispered, "Of course I can."

#

On board the _Liberator,_ Tarrant struggled to stay alert as his body was wracked by stifling heat and bone chilling cold. The communicator at his station chimed, and the pilot swayed as he reached to answer it.

"Tarrant, are you there?" Dayna's voice held both worry and fear.

"Yes, Dayna, I'm here."

"How are you feeling?" she asked in a calmer tone.

"As well as can be expected. Avon?"

"Cally had to put him on life support before going down," she murmured. "Tarrant, what if...."

"Don't even think it, Dayna," Tarrant replied, breaking the contact.

#

Sweat shone on Vila's face as he delicately probed the door for its trigger mechanism. Time was too precious to waste in locating and deactivating the alarm devices so Vila had been forced to resort to a slower method of opening the vault door.

Cally kept watch in the shadows, her eyes glancing down the corridor, then back at Vila. /Vila,/ she telepathed, /we've only three hours left./

Vila jumped, almost crying out. Looking at Cally, he wiped the sweat from his face and nodded. He was all too aware of the time it was taking. _Damn the Federation. Damn Servalan,_ he thought to himself. _And damn you, too, Avon, for getting us into this mass._

Cally turned back to the corridor. A faint grating noise startled her and she whirled around again, gun in hand.

Silhouetted by the light of the vault, Vila waved at her and she ran to his side. He smiled and said, "See. I told you I could do it."

"I never doubted you for an instant," she replied, hugging him. "Now let's find the vaccine and get out of here."

"Wait a minute," he called and turned to twist a few dials on the inside of the vault door.

"What are you doing?" she asked impatiently.

"Making sure all the detection devices are off. Tricky one, this is. All the controls are located inside the vault. As long as the door is open, it's safe." He finished and flicked a switch. "There. All set for when we leave."

Walking through the vault, they came upon row after row of vials. "How are we to find the right one?" Cally whispered.

"Orac said it should be in Sector 4," Vila told her. But Sector 4 proved to house no less than 45 different vials.

"But which one?" Cally asked Vila. "We don't have time to check all of them."

"Then we'll take them all with us," Vila muttered, picking up the tray of vials. "We can always space the ones we don't need."

"Put them down, Vila," ordered a voice behind the pair. Vila froze but Cally spun around, her blaster ready. Servalan and Dr. Javarre stood a scant five feet away with their weapons drawn. "So much for your elaborate security, Javarre," Servalan snapped, then turned her attention back to Vila and Cally. "I don't know how you managed to escape the virus, but...."

"You forget. I was a service grade, Servalan," Vila responded in a cold voice as he turned to face them. "Melden was tried on us some time ago by the Federation, but it didn't work on everyone."

Servalan's expression grew thoughtful. "Ah, yes. During a minor revolt if I remember correctly."

"A 'minor revolt' which killed 200,000 people, including most of my family," Vila returned angrily.

"A miscalculation," she sighed. "More died than anticipated, but it served as a lesson to the masses. The vaccine is for Avon and the others then." She smiled at the sudden pain which crossed their faces, and moved forward.

"Not so fast," Vila snapped, holding up the tray of vials. "You forget that I have these."

Servalan dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Empty threats, Vila. The doctor and I are both immune to the virus."

"But what about the others, Servalan?" Cally looked at Vila as he spoke, and was startled by his calm expression. "Are you sure you're immune to those? I don't think the doctor is."

Servalan glanced at her companion who was turning a little pale. "Well, what is it?" she demanded.

"There's an experimental culture there," Javarre confessed in a shaky voice. "We've not had time to develop a vaccine for it."

"So we seem to be deadlocked," Cally mused, watching Vila from the corner of her eye. Vila was scanning the labels quickly. Smiling, he removed a vial and slipped it unseen into her hand. Then he picked up another, unmarked vial, and held it up.

"Is this the one you were talking about?" he asked innocently, noting the frightened look in the doctor's eyes. While Servalan glared at the doctor, Vila whispered, "Get the vaccine up to Avon, Cally. I'll join you in a bit."

Cally looked uncertainly at him, then activated her bracelet. _"Liberator,_ this is Cally. Bring me up, Orac."

As Cally faded from view. Servalan made a sudden move to her left, but Vila intercepted her. "I wouldn't do anything hasty, Madame President," he said, motioning her back beside the doctor. "Those guns look awfully heavy. Why don't you and the good doctor put them here on the counter?"

"What do you hope to gain, Vila?" Servalan demanded, as they complied.

"Time, Servalan, just a little time." His voice carried a calmness Servalan could not believe. Tightening his grip on the vial, Vila picked up one of the weapons and added quietly, "It's simple, really. If Avon dies, I intend to kill you both."

Servalan looked puzzled for a moment, then laughed. "You?" she asked incredulously.

"Me," came the quiet reply. "All I have to do is drop this vial. _That's_ something even a service grade can do."

#

Tarrant was in the medical unit when Cally arrived on board. He had managed to make it there before collapsing and lay moaning on one of the medical couches.

The life support monitor indicated Avon had slipped into a deep coma, his vital signs barely registering as Cally Injected him with the vaccine. Wordlessly, Dayna did the same for Tarrant.

"Where's Vila?" Dayna asked, glancing around.

"I left him in the vault. Servalan showed up unexpectedly and Vila told me to teleport up with the vaccine."

"And you left him there?"

"I thought he would teleport up right after me," Cally explained, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

"Well, he hasn't. Maybe I should go down and look for him."

"No, Dayna. I need you here. Vila can take of himself." Cally reflected on his sudden personality change. His timid behavior had dissolved down there. Servalan was not facing a frightened thief this time.

"Don't you think we should at least check on him?"

Before Cally could reply, a voice piped up, "Check on who?" Vila stood smiling in the doorway, his familiar guise back in place.

Seeing Cally's pale face, his smile faded. "Avon isn't...."

"No, Vila. But he's in a coma," the Auron sighed. "All we can do now is wait and hope we got the vaccine to him in time."

"Tarrant seems to be stabilizing," Dayna commented as she glanced at his monitor. "That vaccine certainly works fast."

Vila looked at Avon with worried eyes. "I hope Avon comes around as fast."

"And Servalan?" Cally asked, watching Vila's face.

He looked up and grinned. "Oh, she won't be bothering us for a while." His eyes twinkled. "She's sort of preoccupied."

#

Outside the vault, Servalan and Javarre waited impatiently for a guard or someone to appear and release them. After binding them, Vila had positioned his captives with great care against opposite sides of the corridor, feet barely touching. Suspended precariously between them on a thin piece of thread was the vial.

Servalan's eyes flashed angrily but neither she nor Javarre dared say a word. Before reactivating the alarm system, Vila had informed the pair that he'd wiped both their voiceprints from the security device. Any cries for help would set off the sensors releasing the gas. And if that happened, the vial would almost certainly break, releasing the virus.

Servalan glared up at the ceiling, helpless in her rage. _I shall kill you, Vila. Mark my words. I will see you all dead_.

#

Earth was a long way behind them when Avon began showing signs of improvement. It had been a very near thing--too near, Vila reflected as he watched his companion. Shortly after injecting Avon with the vaccine, he had suffered a minor allergic reaction which sent Vila scurrying for Orac while Cally kept a fearful eye on the monitor. Fortunately, the reaction had been very minor and there was no harm done, except perhaps to their nerves.

Since then, there had been steady progress made. Just three days ago, Avon was taken off life support and his temperature slipped back within the safe zone. According to the med computer, it appeared he would recover without suffering any lasting effects from the virus.

With the prognosis announced and Avon on the way to recovery, Vila persuaded Cally to get some badly needed rest. Sleep was something they both needed, but Cally needed it more. She had not left Avon's side since they broke Earth orbit.

#

Avon didn't want to leave the reassuring darkness. It held safety and peace. No danger, no fear, only peace, but the faint noises would not go away. Curiosity got the better of him and he opened his eyes to a world of blurry shapes and distorted sounds. One noise seemed very close, just to his left in fact but when he tried to move, he couldn't. Straps held him firmly but gently in place. A blurry image came into view, then as Avon's eyes adjusted to the light, sharpened into a familiar smiling face. Vila.

"How do you feel?" he asked, then shook his head before Avon could answer. "No, don't try to talk yet, Avon," Vila cautioned, picking up a glass filled with a greenish fluid. "Cally said you were to drink this as soon as you came around."

Avon looked warily at the glass, his expression clearly asking, 'What is it?'

"It's some Auron concoction Cally said would help you," he explained. Avon's eyes swirled with annoyance. Home remedies invariably had a horrid taste and he was in no mood to try any alien remedies, however well meant they might be.

Vila saw his reluctance and sighed. "Look, Avon. Your system needs all the fluids it can get. The IV's we gave you helped some, but the fever dried you out badly. You must drink this," he pleaded.

Still eyeing the glass dubiously, he nodded and with Vila's help downed its contents. Avon was thoroughly surprised and it showed on his face. The liquid had a pleasant, mild flavor which cooled and soothed his parched throat.

Vila chuckled and began removing the restraints. "I told Cally you'd take it, even if I had to force it down." He paused, glancing at the monitor. "Your temperature's down, too. I'd say you're over the worst of it."

Avon studied Vila carefully, noting the dark rings around his eyes, the pallor of his face and how his hands shook as he loosened the straps. In a very faint voice, Avon said, "I take it then I will live."

Vila stopped, his face momentarily contorted in pain, then looked at Avon. "We thought we'd lost you," he cried, turning away. Avon stared at him in dismay.

The med unit door slid open and Cally entered, looking much better after eight hours' sleep. "Vila, has he come...." She stared at Vila.

Then Avon spoke. "Cally?"

"Yes, Avon," she murmured in relief. Moving to the shaking thief's side, Cally took him gently by the arm and led him to the door. "Go to bed, Vila. I'll take over now. Get some sleep."

Vila nodded. "I...I will, Cally," he stammered, glancing once more at Avon, then left.

Avon's face betrayed his concern as Cally looked down at him and smiled. "He's just tired, Avon. That's all."

"He...you...weren't affected by the virus?" Avon asked, relieved to find his voice steady.

"No," she replied, checking the monitor. "Only you and Tarrant were. Vila and Dayna apparently had some natural immunity, and I...."

"You, being from Auron, were not affected," Avon finished.

"Exactly." Avon glanced about and saw that the other couch was empty. Cally followed his gaze. "Tarrant suffered a milder case. He's already back on the flight deck."

"Is he?" Avon replied dryly.

"Avon!" she exclaimed. "Tarrant was just as worried as the rest of us."

"I can imagine," he sighed. "After all, he would need the vaccine as much as I." Cally frowned but Avon ignored her. "Orac came up with it?"

"No," she answered. "Once Orac had identified the virus, we discovered there was only one place to get the vaccine. At the Melden Institute on Earth."

"But how...," he began.

"Orac located the vaccine vault and Vila and I teleported down and got it."

Avon accepted the explanation in silence but refused to think of the implications. Vila's reaction to his near death, and the apparent willingness of his companions to place their own lives in jeopardy by going to Earth, overwhelmed him.

"Rest, Avon," Cally soothed. "We're in deep space, far from any Federation outposts."

His eyes searched her face carefully before he asked, "How long has it been, Cally?"

Cally hesitated before answering. "You were in a coma when we got the vaccine to you, Avon. It's been nearly ten days since Pendra."

"Ten days?" Avon could not hide the shock which crossed his face. Ten days? The words echoed in his mind. Then he remembered Vila's trembling voice. 'We thought we'd lost you, Avon.' _Was I really that close?_ he wondered.

#

Cally glanced at the monitor nervously. She had not meant to tell Avon until he was stronger. The readings were a little erratic but nothing to worry about. Still, Avon needed rest and Cally knew of only one way he was going to get it. The mild tranquilizer took her only a minute to prepare and even less than that to slip into his system.

"Cally," Avon murmured as his consciousness slipped away, "thank Vila for me."

"I will, Avon," she promised. His eyes closed then and Cally sighed with relief.

Dimming the light, she slipped from the room and found Vila waiting outside the door. "You're sure he'll be all right?" he asked anxiously.

"He'll be fine, Vila," Cally answered, smiling at the relief on his face. Then she frowned. "But _you_ won't be if you don't get some rest. I could give you something to help. A little soma, perhaps?"

Vila considered for a moment, then shook his head. "No, Cally. But thanks for offering."

As he turned to head for his cabin, Cally took his arm and looked deep into his eyes. "Vila, Avon told me to thank you."

For an instant, the man she had seen on Earth was back, then he disappeared as Vila smiled. "You just wait. As soon as he gets back on his feet, he'll have me regretting it." Cally released his arm and watched as he trudged wearily down the hall toward his cabin.

"I thank you, too," she called softly after him.


End file.
